


counter-point

by fyborg23



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyborg23/pseuds/fyborg23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman is really good-looking, even a step up from, you know, <i>hockey hot</i>, with his dumb face and Euro cool. There's a reason Webs is fucking him. Seth figures it's some sort of stress relief for Webs because jesus, guy can get pretty tightly wound up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	counter-point

Roman is really good-looking, even a step up from, you know,  _hockey hot_ , with his dumb face and Euro cool. There’s a reason Webs is fucking him. Seth figures it’s some sort of stress relief for Webs because jesus, guy can get pretty tightly wound up. Not like Webs talks about what he does to Roman with Seth or any of the other boys. Come to think of it, Seth’s fairly sure that if it wasn’t for hockey Webs wouldn’t talk at  _all_.

Maybe talking is overrated. Webs and Roman read each other just fine on the ice. They probably fuck in silence, maybe Webs grunts a little while leaving those hard-to-hide hickeys all over Roman’ neck, and Roman shutting up for _once_.

Seth shifts on his blades, just avoiding picking his toe on the ice,  _shit_ , and slams off a puck from the dot.

He needs to get laid, jesusfuck. He’s got no business thinking about what Webs’ o-face looks like or how many beds they break per season.

Roman  _does_  keep getting those ridiculous couches. Maybe they only fuck on those couches. Seth’s lounged on them enough to know if they can support Seth, they can support Webs. Not that Seth sees himself being anywhere near as thick  _all over_  like Webs is, a  _tree_  if there ever was one. Seth is a bowling pin, ok. Thin on top, thick on bottom, and it comes in fucking handy for  _hockey_.

Shit. Seth should just spend some quality time with pornhub or whatever. He probably can even go out and get laid, he doesn’t live with his mom now. He’s free.

Roman floats next to Seth, flushed from the forehead down, and pokes Seth in the side with the butt of his stick, “Where’s your  _poise_ , Jonesy?”

Seth huffs, “You’re texting Becks over him keeping your precious sheep hostage.”

“It’s cold in Toronto,” Roman retorts, “And don’t change the subject. You almost chipped yourself off, Mr. Power Skater.”

Seth yanks off his glove and scrubs at the sweat underneath his visor, “Just trying to get back to work.”

Roman squints at him, like he  _knows_  Seth has been thinking about Webs bending Roman over for a “massage” for the last ten minutes, and Seth’s not even relieved when Roman doesn’t call him on his bullshit. Seth squirts water into his mouth and grits his teeth. Fine, he’s going to quit thinking about  _that_.

Seth isn’t prepared for Webs  _grinning_  at him right before he smushes Seth against the glass, laughing at Seth and illegally pressing his stick against his arm–

But Webs gets away with a lot more sneaky shit than most d-men do. Seth pushes back, slips out enough to pull the puck along with him, and smirks when he makes Webs budge, all 238 pounds of him. He skates into the o-zone, and grins at the image of blank surprise on Webs’ face.

He does work hard, ok?

#

Seth may sigh in relief when he slides his jock off and sticks himself in a cold shower. He scrubs at himself, lathering up and looking forward to eating a big meal, jerking off and falling asleep for hours.

That’s a good plan, a solid plan, and it crumbles when Webs intercepts him fresh out of the showers and dripping cold water on the tile. Webs  _smiles_  at him, jesus, twice in a day, and claps Seth on the arm– non-sexual, captain-ly, _hard_ – and tells him he’s going out with him and Roman.

Seth doesn’t say no, not when Web looks like he really wants him to say yes. Webs strokes his arm, and Seth bites his lip against how rough Webs’ hands are, and watches him walk off in a towel that seems too tight even though it falls to his knees.

Seth turns to find Roman eyeing him, like they’re on opposite sides of the blue line. He raises his eyebrow in question, and Roman shrugs–  _angrily_? Impatiently?

Seth has no fucking idea.

#

Webs pays, snatches up the tab before either Seth or Roman tries to, of course he would–

Seth can see Webs scribbling a large number for the tip before setting it face down on the table. Webs leans back in the circular booth, slings his arms over both Seth and Roman, and Seth’s glad that having Webs’ arm against his neck doesn’t make him squirm. He still licks his lips, finishes off a very-much-not-in-his-diet beer. The hops cling to his tongue, and he scrapes it against the inside of his teeth, watching Roman look at him like he wants to do something  _to_  him.

Webs looks between both of them, and grins as he slides out his sunglasses from the collar of his t-shirt and puts them on. He strokes the back of Seth’s neck, and Seth moves because he wants to let Webs out of the booth, not because Roman’  _leering_  at him.

Seth digs his nails into his thighs to keep himself from popping wood. This is a _family_  restaurant, for fuckssakes. Roman presses his hand against the small of Seth’s back, and murmurs into his ear, “You going to move?”

He does, walking in between Webs and Roman, his skin buzzing with tension. Roman’ putting out some sort of sex vapor, all keyed up and making Seth feel hot as he slides into the back of Webs’ massive pick-up. Webs looks over his sunglasses at Seth, and shit, Seth regrets that inappropriate crush he had on him when he was a rookie.

It’s too much, watching both Webs and Roman being into each other’s spaces, and Seth caves in. Thinks about Roman maybe smirking at Webs before he pushes him against a wall– and Webs  _letting_  him– and sliding his mouth on his dick, getting all pink and even  _prettier_. Webs pressing Roman against his front, one hand on his neck and another on his dick, jerking him off and– Seth doesn’t know,  _growling_  into Roman’ ear.

Seth pulls at his seat belt and presses his hand against the tent in his shorts. He should be more professional, but really, he’s about 70 percent sure that Webs is palming Roman’ thigh at every stoplight they hit. And they’re hitting a lot.

Trust Webs to actually drive the speed limit.

Webs cranes his head back at Seth, and Seth can feel him looking at his crotch through those stupid unflattering sunglasses, whatever he wanted to say to Seth grinding to a stop, and Webs gives him a filthy smirk.

Seth is not going to get out of this with his underwear– much less his  _dignity_ intact.

They pull up to Seth’s place, and Webs puts the pickup in  _park_  and turns it off. Seth makes himself lean against the front seats, and Roman flicks an amused look at him.

“Seriously, guys, what the hell,” Seth mutters. Because what the hell. Webs slides down his sunglasses, and clears his throat. There’s something that could be called a blush among that forest Webs calls a beard.

Roman rolls his eyes and says, “ _I_  have to say it? Seriously? It was your idea, Shea.”

Seth pumps his fist a little behind the seats. He was right about one aspect of this whole mess. He smiles a little, and raises his eyebrow, “Why are you guys being so mysterious?”

Webs sighs and shoves his hand through his hair, clutches at the steering wheel before Roman takes pity on him and tells Seth, “What Webs here won’t man up enough to  _say_  is that he wants you and me to fuck him.”

Seth blinks. He shifts his eyes over to Webs, who’s rubbing a thumb over his eyebrow and trying not to look out the windshield. He slides back to Roman, who looks very.  _Determined_.

“You mean. You and me. And him,” Seth manages.

Roman grins sharply, “You sound surprised.”

Seth resists the urge to scrub his heated face, “Ah, I thought it’d be. Um, the other way around.”

He peeks over at Webs, who’s leaning against the door, and Webs shrugs, “I like what I like.”

Seth leans on his elbow against Roman’ seat, and says, “Me? Why?”

Roman looks Seth up and down, and says, “You’re no  _me_ ,” Seth snorts, Roman’ such an egotist, “but you’re not bad. I’ve had to listen to him talk about how hard you work.”

Seth can hear the hidden  _in bed_  part, and Roman adds, “Besides he’s a handful. I figure maybe between both of us he’d finally  _relax_.”

They both look at Webs, and Seth says, “You look pretty relaxed.”

Webs shrugs, “I could be more relaxed.”

Seth considers.

Forty-five seconds later Roman is pressing him up against the back of the front door and making out with him.

Seth pulls a little at Roman’ shirt, and licks his lips, because jesus, Roman uses  _teeth_. Roman just licks his own lips and reaches down to squeeze at Seth’s ass–

Roman swears in German, and Seth shoves a little against him, “Yeah, it’s called working out, yeah, I gained some weight.”

Roman squeezes again, and Webs smirks against Seth’s neck, “He’s going to feel even guiltier about being such a perv,” and covers Roman’ hands with his own, jesus.

Seth grinds against Roman’ front, grinning despite himself, “What about that, _Roman_ , what do you have to say for yourself?”

Roman looks up at Seth with lidded eyes, and clutches at his arms, kisses him, his mouth still as  _sharp_. Seth feels no guilt whatsoever about wrestling Roman towards his bed, or watching Webs pull his shirt off over his head.

Roman grins up at Seth, and says, “He’s pretty hot, eh?”

Seth looks over at Webs, who’s maybe flexing a little and playing with the fly of his shorts, and grins, “Not bad.”

Webs steps closer, and pushes down Seth’s shorts, rucks up his shirt, and Roman holds his shirt up as Webs slides his hand into Seth’s underwear. Webs gives the base of Seth’s dick a firm squeeze, and Seth may make a noise.

Roman pushes down Seth’s shorts just enough to mouth at his dick, leaving a wet spot on his underwear. Seth pushes forward, and Webs grips his hips, “Shh, you’ll get what you need, Jonesy.”

The bed’s big enough for the three of them, if Roman slides in between Webs’ legs and Seth kneels on one side, and Webs pulls Seth in by the neck to kiss him. It’s almost  _sweet_ , and Seth has to brace a hand against Webs’ broad chest to keep from slipping into it.

Roman slides his hands down the insides of Webs’ broad thighs, and Seth reaches down to stroke Webs’ thick dick, which earns him a soft kiss on his hand from Roman. Webs sighs, and strokes Roman’s head before he says, “Please tell me you came here prepared.”

Roman wriggles down the end of Seth’s bed and yanks his pants closer, and both Webs and Seth watch Roman’s ass move as he digs through his pants. Seth licks his lips, and Webs nudges Roman’s thigh with a foot, “Hurry up or I’m going to make out with him.”

Roman mutters a  _aha!_  and slides up with a packet of lube and– two types of condoms, and just how much planning did they both put into this?

“Optimistic?” Seth says, watching Roman settle back between Webs’ massive, hairy thighs.

Webs slides a hand up Seth’s thigh, presses his palm against Seth’s balls, and lifts them, makes Seth scoot closer, and says, “Yeah,” right before his beard rasps against Seth’s groin. Seth slides his hand through Webs’ hair, his teeth pressed against his lips, trying not to sway. He can feel sweet slide along his spine from Roman giving him those eyes, from Webs rubbing his face this  _close_ to his junk.

Webs licks at the tip of his dick, kisses it, before he leans back against the pillows with his hands folded behind his head, looking like he  _owns_  the bed. Roman leans forward to kiss Webs, and his eyelids  _flutter_  when he actually does it, looking softer than he is–

Seth moans a little when Webs pulls his knee up, drapes his other leg over the corner of the mattress, and he reaches out to curve his hand over the tattoo on Webs’ bicep because otherwise his eyes are going to trace the broad trail of hair down from Webs’ belly button to down around his balls.

Roman slicks his fingers, like he’s done it many times before, and Seth can see his shoulder work as he circles his fingertips around Webs’ asshole, tease his way in–

Webs closes his eyes, and Seth feels like he’s looking at something  _private_ , and the guilt shouldn’t make it hotter, shouldn’t make him move just enough to see Roman mouthing at the crease of Webs’ thigh and sliding in two fingers. Webs loves this, enough to hold his breath a little and rock down against Roman’s fingers.

“He’s kinda a slut for cock,” Roman smirks, and Seth has to  _agree_ , with the way Webs tries to get more, the way his dick’s hard and curved against his abs.

Seth wants to  _help_ , and he finds a space on the sheets wide enough for him to slide his mouth on Webs’ dick, to make Webs fill his mouth.

“Jesus,” Roman says, and Seth pulls back enough to take in the dazed look Roman has on his face.

“Fucking fuck me,” Webs moans, and Seth clutches at his dick, fucking floored by how intense Webs is. Roman’s face is splotches of pink, his mouth red where he’s been pressing it over as much of Webs as he can. Webs looks like he’d love nothing more than to touch either of them and demand they fuck him. Seth’s mind stutters a little at  _that_ , sliding inside right next to Roman–

Roman pulls Seth over and kisses him, “Fuck, you look like you thought of something even better than this.”

Webs smirks, “Double penetration? A little advanced, isn’t it.”

They both look at Webs, and Webs shrugs before he nudges Roman with his knee, broadcasting  _fuck me now_  with just a glance. Roman eases up on his knees, and smirks as he slips on a condom. Webs grins, just lounging on the bed and watching Roman almost  _psych_  himself up to fucking him.

Seth holds Webs’ thigh open, and watches Roman push in, slowly, and yeah, watching Webs clench around Roman makes his grip on Webs’ leg slip. Roman doesn’t stop, not even to  _breathe_ , just gives it to Webs. Webs clutches at the pillows, and he snaps his hips up, his mouth open in a silent gasp.

Roman flexes, and Seth presses his dick against Webs’ thigh, trying his best not to hump it  _too_  much. Webs makes these little breathy noises, and Roman’s fucking him, just on this side of smooth. Seth wants to touch, feel where Roman’s fucking Webs, where Webs’ so fucking into it, making Roman work for those noises.

Pressing a finger against Webs’ asshole is worth the moan he gets from Roman, and the swift hiss Webs makes before he pushes against Seth and Roman, sweat slicking his neck. Roman looks down, and then up at Seth with a smile, like he did something really right, “Push it in a little more.”

Webs squirms, tight around them, and Roman fucks him harder, selfish, before he stiffens and comes–

Fucking Roman, he even comes  _prettily_ , his mouth open and his neck bare, clutching at Webs. Webs rakes his hand through Roman’s hair, and Roman twitches, looking at Webs and Seth.

Webs licks his lips, watching Seth with dark eyes, and says, “Your turn.”

Roman peels himself off from Shea’s chest, flicks his condom in the general direction of a trash can. Seth hopes it got in, because if not he’s going to have to persuade Roman to pick up after himself. Webs slides his large hand up Seth’s back, and Seth leans against his hand before rolling on another condom. He’s wired, nervous, but Webs seems to be  _confident_  in him.

Yeah, Seth gets why Roman had to psych himself up, but it’s a lot easier with Roman wrapping his hands around Seth’s hips and telling him to keep going. Webs presses back, and Seth is hyper-aware of how warm Webs is around him, how slick– even through the condom– and he glances a little down at where he’s  _fucking_  Webs–

Webs lifts Seth’s chin up, and says, “Move your hips.”

Seth bites his lips, tries to think of anything but Roman and Webs pressing against him, but he  _can’t_. He slides in, intensely aware of Webs pushing back. Roman presses him further in, skims his fingers over Seth’s cleft, makin Seth buckle a little and thrust into Webs a little harder than he wanted–

Webs makes those breathy noises, little  _ah ah ah_ s, and Roman says, “I  _told_ you, Jonesy, please–”

Seth clutches at Webs’ sturdy arms, thrusts in enough for Webs to arch off the bed and throw his head back a little, enough for Seth to press his teeth against the base of Webs’ throat and for Webs to laugh–

He’s a mass of  _nerves_ , fucking him hard and trying to make Webs come, _somehow_ –

Roman jerks Webs off, and Webs says, “Yeah, that’s fucking great, yeah, yeah–”

Seth licks his lips, hopes there’s a  _next_  time, and that’s the last thought he has before he pumps his hips and comes, twitching when Webs comes and _clenches_  around him. Roman slides his come-covered hand over Seth’s chin, and grins.

“Yeah, not bad,” Roman says, and Seth’s too  _tired_  to flip him off.

Webs stretches out, and kisses Roman, a lingering, wet kiss that makes Seth’s spent dick twitch in interest. Then Webs kisses Seth, rubbing his thumb along his lip, and Seth licks his lip.

If there is a next time, they’re doing it on Roman’s ridiculous couch.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr!](http://www.hastybooks.tumblr.com)


End file.
